


Alchemy

by Ribby



Category: Lord of the Rings (2001 2002 2003), Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-03
Updated: 2010-04-03
Packaged: 2017-10-08 16:24:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/77519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ribby/pseuds/Ribby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Names can get you into--and out of--a lot of trouble.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alchemy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [caras_galadhon](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=caras_galadhon).



> A weird hybrid of RPS and FPS--Sean and Aragorn--but how can I not use Aragorn in a fairy tale about names? This is roughly based on "Rumpelstiltskin," but with a great deal of elaborations of my own. This was written for [**caras_galadhon**](http://caras-galadhon.livejournal.com/), for the [**sons_of_gondor**](http://community.livejournal.com/sons_of_gondor/) Halloween fic swap.

Tell me a story, you ask. And then you ask my name.  
You may call me "Bard," if you wish. And no, that's not my name, no more than the one you have is yours.  
Names are power, you know. Knowing someone's name can get you into a lot of trouble. Or, if you're lucky, *out* of a lot of trouble.  
Let me tell you a story...  
**********  
There once was a soldier named Sean, a soldier lately returned from war. He had returned to his village, wanting nothing more than to live out his days quietly. And quietly he did, mostly, except for the odd night or two in the pub.  
As a soldier, he had traveled and read and saw many things. He had always been a good storyteller, so in the pub, he tells stories of his travels, and of the strange and wonderful things he found.  
One night, he's speaking of alchemy, and jokes that with alchemy, one could turn straw into gold. Most of the crowd scoffs, even when Sean says that it was true--he'd seen it (though he hadn't, but no one there was likely to know that--and it made a better story). But one man, near the back, a man with a lean and foxy look to him, listens closely, and then slips out the back of the pub. He is paid by the King, a greedy and suspicious man, to know what his subjects were saying--and our foxy spy knows a good story when he hears one.  
So Reynard (that is not his name either, but you would not trust his name if I were to tell it to you--and Reynard works as well as any) goes to the King and told him there was a man in the town that could turn straw into gold. And the King, stupid with greed, proclaims that such a man must be brought to him, for he has straw a-wasting, and gold is what he needs.  
Sean finds himself marched to the palace by two large and impassive guards, thrown into a room full of straw, and commanded to turn it to gold by morning, or he will die. All the explanations he can muster, and all the pounding on the door, get him nowhere but exhausted.  
Despairing, he pleads to any gods who will listen to help him, but nothing happens. Being a practical man, he decides that what may kill him should at least provide him with one last night's rest... so, draping his cloak over the straw to serve as a bed, he curls up and falls asleep.  
In the middle of the night, he wakes suddenly, his soldier's instincts saying that there is someone in the room with him--and there is. A man, watching him as he sleeps. Who asks him why he is here--and when Sean tells him of his plight, he smiles, and says that he will turn the straw to gold. But Sean must give him something in return. Sean says that all he has are his stories, and himself. The man agrees that that will be payment.  
So Sean tells him a story of his time as a soldier, embellishing (but only a little) when he discovers that his mysterious visitor is every storyteller's delight--a willing and captive listener.  
When the story's over, the man smiles--a wonderful, charming smile. "A tale fit for a prince, told by a skilled storyteller--thank you, Sean." He pauses for a moment. "I still wish to claim my other fee, if you are willing."  
And Sean, nervous, but unafraid, says quietly, "Of course."  
The man cups his face in his warm, work-roughened hands (_a soldier's hands,_ Sean's instincts tell him, noting the calluses on his palms that speak of sword-fighting), and lowers his mouth to Sean's. The kiss is gentle, but by no means chaste--a lover's kiss, simple but powerful. When they part, the man smiles once more, and brushes his hands across Sean's face and forehead. "Sleep now, Sean. Sleep, and remember me." And Sean finds himself unable to keep his eyes open, drifting down into sleep with the other man's taste on his lips--and a smile on his face.  
When he awakens then next morning, skeins of gold lie where the straw was. When the guards unlock the chamber door, they find Sean, seated among the gold, all straw gone. They go running for the king.  
The king is impressed, but being an avaricious man, he wants more--and so he locks Sean into a room full of twice as much straw.  
Again, Sean pleads to anyone who can hear to save him, but no-one comes, and he falls asleep, weary. Again, his mysterious visitor appears to startle him out of sleep.  
"What will you give me, if I do this for you, Sean?"  
"I have nothing to give but my stories and myself."  
"Then give me your stories--and yourself, naked and willing, for I would show you the joy between men."  
And Sean agrees, curious and wanting this man's touch if it will be his last.  
He tells another story from his time as a soldier, this one a little darker. When he is finished, his stranger... no, Sean cannot keep calling this man "his stranger," not if they are to become lovers. About to ask his name, Sean remembers an old proverb about names being power. "What may I call you?"  
His stranger smiles. "Well-worded; I would not have answered had you asked my name. You may call me Strider."  
"Strider." Sean rolls the name around his tongue, liking the firmness of it--it describes this man well.  
"Sean." Smiling, Strider does the same. "Now that we know who we are, shall we continue?"  
Sean nods, a little shy, and begins to remove his shirt. Strider stops him. "Let me." With deft, gentle hands, he undresses Sean, and with those same hands, he maps Sean's body. Not enough to rouse him unduly, but with gentleness and thoroughness, leaving Sean limp with pleasure. Strider kisses him again, deeply, then whispers, "Sleep." And Sean remembers no more.  
When he wakes the next morning, the straw is again turned to gold. Suddenly aware of his nakedness, he quickly dresses--but not without remembering, as he dons each piece of clothing, those gentle hands on him the night before. And he wonders why his heart should ache as well as his body.  
Again, the king wants more, and again, Sean is locked into a room, but this time it is completely full of straw. If he is successful, he will have his choice: the king's daughter or a sizeable portion of the gold.  
Strider appears almost before the door is locked, and Sean cannot help but embrace him, laying his head on the other man's shoulder.  
"What will you give me tonight, Sean?"  
"All of me--my body, my heart, my soul if you will have it."  
The man smiles, grey eyes crinkling at the corners. "Your body and your heart will be enough."  
The first touch of warm skin against his is nearly enough to undo Sean... he gasps, and frantically restrains himself. Strider chuckles, ruefully. "I understand. Perhaps we should just give in..." and saying so, he reaches down and takes Sean's cock in his hand, then presses it against his own, and strokes them both to a glorious, if messy, conclusion.  
Sean has barely gotten his breath back when it is stolen from him, first by a long, passionate kiss, and then by the sight of Strider, eyes wicked, licking his hand clean. Amazingly, Sean feels himself harden again.. a fact that is not lost on Strider, who grins, and sinks to his knees.  
The first touch of Strider's mouth on Sean's aching cock is almost enough--but Strider is a master in these arts, clearly, because with a quick touch behind Sean's balls, the tempest recedes. And then Strider slowly, torturously licks and sucks Sean, beginning with gentle cat-like laps, to longer, harder licks, to finally engulfing Sean whole, sliding up and down his length and keeping Sean moaning. One last, hard pull, and an arcane flicker of tongue, and Sean is rigid, spurting into Strider's mouth, groaning his name.  
His orgasm leaves him exhausted with pleasure; he is barely aware of Strider laying him down upon his own clothes, covering him with his cloak. A brush of lips against his, and he drifting asleep to the sound of the spinning wheel.  
That morning, the king is waiting, and true to his word, he offers Sean the choice. Sean knows the princess loves another, and he would not deny her that (for she, being a bold lass, had dressed up many times as a boy, and gone to drink in the pub with the soldiers--and Sean, being observant, found her out. But when he swore not to tell, she trusted him with her deeper secret--she was in love with the Guard-Captain, a red-haired lad whose post was balanced by his love for lore and legend). So he takes the gold instead, more wealth than he has ever known in his life--or is likely to again.  
With the gold, he buys himself a small cottage, and becomes a gentleman farmer, with his cottage full of books and his loneliness. He dreams of his dark stranger, wondering who he was... and if he will ever see him again.  
His loneliness is lessened when he comes back to the cottage to find a beautiful black-haired green-eyed cat lounging on his floor. Approaching the cat gingerly, for he didn't want to scare it, Sean is amused to find himself thoroughly inspected, head to toe, with one glance from those green eyes. The cat nods, and allows Sean to stroke it. After almost an hour of petting, Sean feels much less lonely--and the cat is purring up a storm.  
That night, his bed seems warmer, and the cat (for he cannot call her *his* cat yet) coaxes him to sleep with her purring.  
At last, one night Strider reappears, startling him out of sleep once again. The cat, he notices, dives under the bed at Strider's appearance (for cats dislike humans behaving in such strange ways--appearing out of midair like that, disgraceful!), but sneaks out a few minutes later and resumes her place on Sean's bed.  
"Sean, I need your help."  
"Anything--just name it."  
"There is a curse on me, and only you can break it."  
"A curse? How...?"  
Strider sighs, and tucks himself up on Sean's bed. The cat is immediately in his lap, her green eyes begging to be petted. Strider strokes her gently, then starts a long rhythmic petting. "I see you've found yourself a new home, Jade."  
"Is she your cat, Strider?"  
Strider smiles, and smooths his thumb over the cat's chin. "As much yours as mine, now... she won't leave you. And I'm glad--you both need someone to take care of you." The cat smiles up at Strider--as much as a cat can smile--and Strider smiles back, his eyes warm and affectionate.  
Sean has a brief moment of jealousy for his cat... but Strider's story soon enthralls him.  
"I was always meant to be king, but it was a future I refused--I did not want the responsibility, the power. I did everything I could to escape it. So when the old king died, I was hunting in the wild; and that gave the present king the chance he needed to step in and take my place.  
"He had no idea what kingship meant--he thought he would simply say 'Do this' and it would be done, all to his whim. But he found himself confused and frightened by the things asked of him, and his confusion and fright turned to anger... anger at the one who had left him to this fate--me."  
"When I finally returned, the king was furious! When I presented myself to him, he spat out that I had been no help to him, but a nameless wanderer. So a nameless wanderer I would be forever, able to approach people only after dark. Only if I could help someone freely and of my own will, and only if they spoke my true name, I would be free of his curse. You are my only hope, Sean."  
"What must I do?"  
"For three nights after tonight I will come to you--you must find my name. Call me by my true name before dawn on the third night, and the curse will be broken. Will you do this?"  
"I will, and gladly."  
The first night, Sean greets Strider with a kiss... which quickly proceeds to other things. When they are both sated, Sean turns to Strider and presents his guesses: Strider, Thorongil, Estel.  
Strider's mouth twists. "Those are all my names, but they are not who I am." He disappears, and Sean's arms are cold.  
The second night is much the same, though Sean's clasp is a little stronger, his kiss a little more desperate. His guesses: Wingfoot, Longshanks, Telcontar.  
Strider sighs. "Those are all what men have called me, but they are not who I am." He vanishes again, and Sean's heart aches for fear that it will be permanent. He lies down and tries to sleep...and to his surprise, does. That night, his cat curls herself around him, purring deeply to send him to sleep. Just before he wakes, he hears a whispered name, rich with love and affection, in a warm, purring voice.  
The third night, their last night, they simply hold each other; if Sean were a less confident man, he would weep. Jade curls at their feet, purring desperately to soothe them both.  
"Dawn is close."  
"How do you know?"  
"After so many years, how can I not? Call my name, Sean. Break this curse."  
Sean takes a deep breath. One last name he had found in all his reading. "Elessar."  
"Closer...that name is tied up in my own."  
And finally, Sean remembers a name spoken in a dream. "Aragorn."  
From her rug by the fireplace, Jade smiles a cat's inscrutable grin... for of course it was her voice Sean had heard in his dream. Being a cat, of course, she will never tell... but so long as her men were happy, where is the harm it it? She has spent so long watching Aragorn's pain; it is only right that she should bring these two together. That way, she could watch over them both--keep them out of trouble. Humans! They were worse than kittens sometimes.  
There is no visible change--but it is as if a barrier has been broken. As the sun rises, Aragorn smiles, a true smile free of bitterness, and embraces his love.  
"Thank you, Sean... my curse is broken, my self restored. And all due to you."  
Sean reddens at the praise. "I would hope that anyone would do so much for someone they loved."  
He is warmed by Aragorn's gentle smile. "Perhaps not everyone--but certainly you would."  
Sean twines his hand with Aragorn's. "What will you do now?"  
Aragorn looks at Sean's small house, with its books and its cat... but no longer its loneliness. "Do you think there would be enough room for both of us?"  
Startled, Sean looks around. "I suppose so... but what about the King?"  
Aragorn laughs, and there is a tinge of bitterness to it. "He would not take it well to having me back, I imagine... so I will keep out of court affairs. But I have friends still--the young Guard-Captain, and the King's daughter, and they will keep me apprised of events. Thank you again, by the way, for taking the gold instead of her... they will find a way to be together, I think, and you have helped that."  
Sean ducks in for a kiss. "Anyone would have done as much."  
"Sean." And the love in Aragorn's voice is so strong, so tangible, that Sean feels bathed in it.  
"Aragorn," he returns, rejoicing in saying his name.  
Aragorn laughs. "You do realize this means that I can have you properly, on a bed, instead of a cold flagstone floor? Such luxury!"  
Sean strips in record time, flings himself down on the bed, and opens his arms. "Luxury indeed. And if this is better than that cold flagstone floor, I may not survive it!"  
Aragorn grins, and pounces.  
Jade had tucked herself under the bed when clothes started flying--but when Sean lands on the bed (far too heavily for her taste), she skitters out. About to pounce on the bed and entice Sean into a game, she watches Aragorn and realizes she's been thoroughly out-pounced. Fluffing her tail in annoyance, she stalks off to the other end of the cottage and curls up by the fire, ignoring her humans and their noises. Kittens? Hmph. Cats in heat, more like.  
Said humans are thoroughly engaged, and don't even notice.  
Later, sweaty and sated, Sean murmurs, "Thank you for coming back. I thought I might never see you again."  
Aragorn whispers into his hair, "I had to come back... I love you too much to abandon you."  
Sean smiles, whispers Aragorn's name, and falls into sleep feeling that smile against his hair.  
And they all live happily ever after. Even the cat.  



End file.
